Min-ho stood before the obsidian pillar, the cold surface of the stone leaching the heat from his palm. He could feel the machine's internal sensors reaching out, trying to probe the density of his mana core. In the Slumber Realm, he had learned that mana wasn't just a pool of energy; it was a weight. If he let even a fraction of his Star-Forged Marrow's true density leak out, the pillar would likely shatter, and the subsequent shockwave would level the examination hall.
He closed his eyes and visualized the Eternal Epoch Refining Scripture. He pulled his mana inward, coiling it tightly around his bones, suppressing the vibration until his internal system felt like a dormant engine. He allowed only a thin, diluted stream of energy to flow into the stone.
The pillar hummed. The blue runes etched into its surface began to glow, climbing steadily from the base toward the top. The crowd of students, many of whom were still snickering at his appearance, slowly went quiet as the light passed the D-rank threshold and kept rising.
Ping.
The monitor above the pillar flashed a bright, steady yellow.
[Rank: C]
[Output: 1,950 units]
A collective gasp rippled through the hall. For a student coming from a standard public school with no guild backing, a C-rank mana reading was nearly impossible. Most of the "Gold Spoon" heirs had spent millions on mana-supplementing elixirs just to hit the B-rank mark. For a random kid in a bus-stop hoodie to hit high C-rank on a "lazy" touch was a statistical anomaly.
Up on the balcony, the red-haired girl narrowed her amber eyes. Her smirk had vanished, replaced by an expression of genuine curiosity. She knew the machine wasn't lying, but she also knew what she had felt at the gate.
"High C-rank," the proctor muttered, scribbling notes on a digital pad. He looked at Min-ho with a mix of suspicion and intrigue. "Clean core, but your delivery is stagnant. It's like you're holding back or you just don't know how to push. Move to Hall B for the practical exam."
Min-ho nodded and walked away, his face showing no emotion. He wasn't disappointed by the C-rank; he was relieved. It was high enough to get him into the Academy, but low enough that the S-rank prodigies would eventually stop looking at him as a threat.
Hall B was a massive, circular arena reinforced with mana-dampening alloy. In the center stood three "Mark VII Combat Drones" four-legged mechanical constructs equipped with blunt-force sensors and high-speed mobility thrusters.
The practical exam was simple: survive for three minutes and disable as many drones as possible. The proctors weren't looking for raw power here; they were looking for "Hunter Instinct" the ability to read movements, manage mana efficiency, and execute finishing blows.
Min-ho stepped into the center of the ring. Two other candidates were in the arena with him. One was a girl with a rapier who looked incredibly nervous, and the other was a muscular boy who was already flaring a bright red aura.
"Begin!" the proctor shouted.
The drones hissed, their hydraulic legs coiling before they launched themselves across the arena. The muscular boy charged forward, screaming as he swung a massive, mana-infused fist. He smashed into one drone, sending it skidding back, but he was immediately flanked by the other two.
Min-ho didn't charge. He didn't even raise his hands. He stood in a relaxed stance, his eyes tracking the high-speed movements of the drones with a clarity that made the world seem slow.
A drone lunged at his head, its blunt mechanical claw swinging in a horizontal arc. Min-ho tilted his head back just an inch. The claw whistled past his nose, missing him by a fraction of a centimeter. Without looking, he stepped to the left, letting a second drone's tackle pass through the space he had occupied a millisecond before.
He wasn't using flashy spells. He wasn't using his Sovereign Pressure. He was using the absolute efficiency of movement he had drilled into his soul during four months of fighting shadow echoes.
Every time a drone attacked, Min-ho moved just enough to avoid it. To the proctors watching the monitors, it looked like he was barely escaping by pure luck. He looked clumsy, uncoordinated, and utterly lacking in "warrior spirit."
"He's just dodging," one proctor remarked, shaking his head. "No offensive initiative. No combat arts. He has the mana of a C-rank, but the combat sense of a civilian."
Min-ho heard the comment but didn't care. He waited for the drone to overextend its lunge. As the mechanical construct flew past him, Min-ho reached out and delivered a short, blunt palm strike to its rear chassis.
The drone simply dropped to the floor, its internal gyroscopes shattered by the vibration. It sparked once and went dark. Min-ho repeated the process twice more minimal movement, a single light tap, and a neutralized machine.
When the three minutes were up, Min-ho was the only one standing in a ring of deactivated drones. The muscular boy had been knocked out of bounds, and the girl with the rapier was panting on the floor.
The proctors huddled together, whispering. They looked at the footage. "It's efficient, but there's no growth potential. He doesn't use techniques. He just hits things until they stop. And look at his attitude he's yawning."
Min-ho was, in fact, yawning. The adrenaline of the fight was non-existent compared to the life-and-death struggles of the Slumber Realm. He just wanted to go home and eat.
An hour later, the final results were projected onto the massive holographic display in the main courtyard. Thousands of students crowded around, searching for their names.
The "S-Class" list was at the very top. The red-haired girl was there, along with the frost boy and the golden spear heir. They were the elite, destined for private villas, specialized training, and the best equipment the Association could provide.
Min-ho scrolled down. Past A-Class. Past B-Class. Finally, at the very bottom, he found his name.
[Candidate: Kim Min-ho]
[Rank: C]
[Assignment: D-Class - Section 4]
The surrounding students noticed it too.
"Wait, that kid with the high mana got put in D-class?" someone whispered, laughing. "The instructors must have realized he's a total fluke. Imagine having C-rank mana and still being placed with the trash."
"He's a 'Dud,'" another mocked. "High tank, no engine."
Min-ho stared at the screen, and for the first time all day, a genuine, relaxed smile spread across his face.
The D-Class dorms were located on the far edge of the campus, furthest from the training grounds and the administrative offices. They were known for having the smallest class sizes and the least amount of mandatory drills. Most importantly, the D-Class schedule was famously light, designed for students who the Academy had essentially given up on.
'Free dorms, three meals a day, and almost no morning classes,' Min-ho thought. 'No one will be watching me. I can spend eighteen hours a day in the Forge without a single person knocking on my door.'
He turned away from the holographic board, ignoring the sneers and the pitying looks of the elite students. He didn't need their status or their leather armor. He had a black card in his pocket, and a realm of endless gold clouds waiting for him.
"Good," Min-ho muttered to himself as he walked toward the bus stop. "Fewer people will bother me while I sleep."
As he walked, he noticed the red-haired girl watching him from a distance. She wasn't laughing like the others. She looked at his smile, then at the "D-Class" on the board, and her expression turned thoughtful.